


sugar (yes please)

by hellfireschmellfire



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Innocent Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Pre-Relationship, Secret Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension, just hank being a nerd don't mind him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 17:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15223724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellfireschmellfire/pseuds/hellfireschmellfire
Summary: Hank battles with homosexual thoughts and powdered sugar. (Seriously, where did Connor even get donuts?)





	sugar (yes please)

**Author's Note:**

> aka robotboy eats and hank wantz 2 eat his dicc
> 
> mini ad, you can DM me on instagram (@neqxient) if you want something written for any ship for wayy too cheap lmao

Hank wasn’t used to it. Even after weeks of being trailed around by the humanoid puppy Connor, having his every movement scrutinised and analysed as if he were a celebrity in a teen magazine, having every ounce of his privacy invaded, he wasn’t used to it. Wasn’t used to those vacant eyes staring at every slight twitch in his brow when he lied, or even tracking his fucking health.

“Lieutenant, I picked up some lunch for you. Despite the contained cholesterol being above average levels, my calculations tell me this won’t affect your health in the long term.”

Okay, maybe Hank was _ slightly _ used to it.

“About fuckin’ time.” Hank grumbled in his typical baritone drawl, but his lips still quirked up in amusement. Despite the boy’s constant apprehensiveness to giving Hank unhealthy food, he still always caved and bought him it anyway. It was probably just the robot’s way of gaining Hank’s trust, but Hank didn’t really give a shit. Connor never made him pay.

That was something about Connor that Hank was already accustomed to: Connor’s blatant kindness towards him. Whilst the android was more cold towards others, preferring to state facts and truth rather than base his speech around others opinions, alongside his rigorously submissive behaviour when it came to rules, he never really mirrored that was Hank. Not that Hank didn’t appreciate it - on the contrary, he found it relieving that Connor acted more, well, _ human _ around him. (He already had a dog, he didn’t need another one.)

Hank didn’t know whether to be concerned about it, though. Connor was programmed to follow orders, that much was fact. Yet, he never listened to what Hank said. Maybe it was to do with the fact that what Hank said didn’t always positively impact the case at hand. But… Hank had an itching feeling it was something more. He’d never been known for being very intuitive, but he had a hunch that Connor was doing a little more than his programming suggested.

Then again, Hank didn’t actually give much of a shit for the conspiracies, in all honesty. Connor was his annoyance, that occasionally bought him food. 

_ An _ annoyance.

Not his annoyance, Hank corrected.

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna end up killin’ me, Connor.” Hank smiled lightly while saying this, before taking what could only been described as a fucking massive ass bite of his burger. He let out a small groan of appreciation, having not noticed how hungry he was all the time he was pretending to read the reports scattered on the desk before him. 

“There’s an extremely low probability of that happening through burgers, lieutenant. I’m sure other methods would be much more proficient.” Connor replied with a tinge of humour in his voice, or as much as he could emote. Hank chuckled at this, continuing to devour his burger at an astonishing speed before throwing the wrapper to the nearest garbage can. (It missed.)

“Oh, yeah? Been thinkin’ about how to off me, Connor?”

“The thought had crossed my mind, but I decided not to pursue it. Not worth the paperwork.”

“You little shit.” Hank professed, coming off more fondly that he’d intended. While he still said Connor was an annoyance (keyword: an), he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He wasn’t sure exactly - though - when he’d started viewing Connor as a friend. A weird friend who knows every detail about him, licks gross shit off the floor and is way too pushy, but a friend nonetheless. 

A thought crossed his mind of those two spending time together outside work - absurdly, of them walking through a mall together, Hank gravitating towards the exit, and Connor excitedly tugging him along to some strange vintage store that stocks antiques. Recently, Connor had become obsessed with things from the past. He knew all there was to know about the present so well, it always shocked him to see how life was before. He’d even started a coin collection, which really didn’t surprise Hank. He always knew the kid was a fucking nerd.

Another thought popped up of them at a pier at sunset, of all places. Hank with an ice cream, and Connor walking next to him, close - too close. Connor’d notice some excess at the corner of his mouth, and use him thumb to get it off, as friends do. And then he’d lick it off his thumb, like he does with all of that blue blood, as friends definitely do not do, unless your friend is your mother and you are six years old.

Well, shit. That’s fucking gay.

“Lieutenant? You appear to be distracted. Might I suggest going home for the day for some rest? I can cover the rest of your work for the day.” Connor appeared concerned, eyebrows drawn in slightly as his hand retracted from poking Hank out of his dazed stupor, full of vanilla ice cream and strange homosexual fantasies. Not that he’d never had one of those, of course, but there was a line between thinking about men and thinking about android men, and Hank drew that line long ago.

“I’m fine, kid. Go back to your own shit.”  _ Note to self, don’t use the word kid after thinking about said kid licking some stuff off of your mouth. Definitely not the right word.  _ Hank thought urgently, turning to look away from Connor immediately. The boy would definitely notice if Hank just stared at his mouth for an hour, and would go into some spiel about whether his outside hardware was functioning correctly and if more humanoid adjustments needed to be made. Definitely a boner killer.

Connor narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming to calculate whether Hank’s strange behaviour classified as some sort of disorder or illness. With hesitation, he backed towards his own station, though making sure not to let his eyes stray from Hank for too long, just in case his medical examination had missed something. At least, Hank assumed, considering the fact he didn’t raise his head from his desk for a good two hours after the fact. At all. For once, he managed to get his work done, something he’d barely accomplished once in the past however long he’d not given a shit for.

When he did finally raise his head, however, he immediately regretted doing so.

Connor’s eyes were focussed on his computer, as they typically were. But his index finger was currently being devoured by his tongue, licking what Hank could only assume was powdered sugar from the donut in front of the android. Hank didn’t even know the fucker could eat, let alone give his finger oral sex to get the sugar off.

_ Oh God, don’t think about oral sex right now for the love of God don’t fucking do it-- _

Connor made eye contact.

Hank made eye contact.

Connor removed the finger from his mouth with a resounding _ ‘pop’ _ , before smiling gently at Hank with those eyes. Those fucking eyes, that wet mouth, that pink tongue swirling round just trying to get every last drop--

“Lieutenant? You seem to be perspiring quite a bit. Would you like me to turn down the heat-”

Hank was fond of great men. Men of great power, great influence. One such men he took inspiration from was Sir Usain Bolt, the retired olympian. Had anyone seen him that day, Hank would have said he was doing his best impression of the man to pay homage to his legacy.

He fucking ran.


End file.
